


A Change in Style

by kaitlia777



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Someone steals Blaine’s clothes while he’s showering in the locker room and he ends up wearing a change of clothes borrowed from Sam for the rest of the day. Sam…likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change in Style

“Whoever decided to schedule phys ed for first period is evil,” Blaine muttered, dragging himself out of the shower after particularly long class that involved dodgeball.

“At least it's over,” Sam offered from where he was tugging his jeans up over barely dried legs. “And hey, no black eyes, bloody noses or head injuries! We came out on top today.”

Blaine noticed Sam didn't say no bruises, as it was a large, spectacular one blooming on Sam's left flank, stark against his fair skin. Still, he was right.

“True, I …What the hell?” Opening his locker, Blaine saw his school bag, hanging innocuously on its hook and his top siders, but his clothes (plus the spare set he kept in case an emergency change was needed) were missing.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, voice muffled as he emerged from the neck of his Henley. They were the only two in this particular area of the lockers at the moment, the other guys preferring to crowd into the other rows.

They didn't want to get changed in front of a gay guy.

The first day it happened, Blaine had scowled and muttered to Sam, “Well, that’s a bit egotistical of them.”

Sam and shrugged. “Hey, having space in the locker room is never a bad thing. Do you really want to chance having Aldo and his forest of back hair touch you?”

Sam had a point.

In this instance, the homophobia of most teenage boys was actually working in his favor.

Except….

“Someone took my clothes,” Blaine said, blinking in surprise.

“What? Really?” Sam asked, mystified. “Jeeze, what's the point of that?”

“To annoy me,” Blaine replied with a huff, pulling open nearby lockers that were un-padlocked, looking to see if someone had dumped his things in an empty locker. Sam joined the search and, 5 minutes later, they came up empty.

“Here,” Sam said, reaching into his locker and grabbing his own spare clothes. “They'll be big, but better than nothing.”

Relieved, Blaine said, “Thanks.”

It was a little strange, wearing another guy’s boxers, but, not wanting to be late to class, he stepped into them before yanking on the jeans. They were loose and he had to fold up the cuffs a few times, but Sam was slim enough that they weren't falling off. The shoulders of the t-shirt were far too broad and he felt like he was swimming in the flannel, but at least he was dressed.

As he rolled up the sleeves so he could see his hands, Blaine asked, “How do I look?”

Sam didn't answer right away and, when Blaine glanced over, he found his friend looking at him with a strangely intense expression. “Sam?”

Sam blinked. “What? Oh yeah, you look good. Fine. I've got to get the math. I'll see you in history.”

Then he all but ran away.

Shaking his head, Blaine grabbed his bag and headed off to class himself.

He caught a few odd looks as he barreled into calculus, but he tried to ignore them and slid into his seat without fuss.

After class, he bumped into Kitty in the hall and she smiled broadly at him. “Aw, you look like a real boy today,” she cooed in a voice that set him on edge. “Turning a new leaf? I'd be all over converting you.”

The girl scared him, so he made the dive for the relative safety of Brittany and Tina and walked with them for a while.

Britt had blinked at him. “You look like you're playing dress-up in Sam's clothes,” she said in her usual blunt manner. “It's cute. Sometimes Santana and I share.”

Tina giggled as Blaine sighed. “Someone stole my clothes from my locker while I was showering after gym. How'd you know these were Sam's?”

“You smell like Sam,” Brittany replied, then bounced into a classroom while he and Tina crossed to their own English class.

As the teacher droned on about Ethan Frome, Blaine subtly snagged the neckline of the T-shirt and raised to his nose, inhaling.

A scent that Blaine immediately associated with Sam, detergent, something piney and clean boy, assaulted his senses. It was a really nice smell and he took several deep breaths.

After history, where Sam had been strangely twitchy, Blaine towed the taller boy into the choir room and asked, “What’s going on with….”

His question was cut off by the pressures Sam's lips on his own. For a moment, he froze before his reflexes kicked in and he reached up, grabbing at the front of Sam's shirt to haul him closer. The kiss was deep, open mouth and a little messy in the best of ways, Sam's lips hot and insistent, but oh so soft.

When they parted, breathing hard and hearts pounding, Blaine rallied to ask, “Where did that come from?”

Still a bit addled and flushed, Sam flushed and mumbled, “You…I…you’re wearing….”

Something clicked in Blaine grinned. “Sam, did you just go all caveman on me because I'm wearing your clothes?”

If possible, Sam's blush grew brighter. “You probably think I'm a weirdo now,” he mumbled, trying to step back. “I just…couldn’t ignore how it felt anymore.”

Blaine wasn't about to let him run off. “Sam, I don't think you're weird…well, no more so than I usually do,” he assured him with a gentle smile. “It's like how some guys like to leave visible hickeys. Natural, if a little possessive. I don't mind.”

“You don't?” Sam sounded so hopeful that it almost hurt. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Then definitely.”

Before their lips could meet, the sound of someone clearing their throat made the pop apart.

Mr. Shue was standing just outside the door, obviously trying not to smile. “Hate to interrupt, but you two need to get to class,” he said, then nodded as he turned to go.

Of course he was right, they had one more class before lunch, then afternoon lessons ahead of them. With the rueful sigh, Blaine leaned up and pressed a soft, quick kiss to Sam's lips. “Later?”

“Later.”

* * *

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